


and they came unstuck

by ionlyloveyouironically



Series: your left-hand man [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, Trans Male Character, discussion of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10942509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlyloveyouironically/pseuds/ionlyloveyouironically
Summary: Ronan doesn’t realize at first. And yes, he realizes that that fact alone makes him the worst boyfriend ever, thank you, but the point is-The point is that Adam never asks him to reciprocate. Sexually.





	and they came unstuck

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Ronan notes (not in a negative way) throughout the fic that Adam is softer/curvier than cis boys. If this may trigger any dysphoria you may want to avoid this fic!! They discuss sex and genitals throughout but (vague) sex scene only at the very last part

Ronan doesn’t realize at first. And yes, he _realizes_ that that fact alone makes him the worst boyfriend ever, thank you, but the point is-

The point is that Adam never asks him to reciprocate. Sexually.

It’s just that Ronan’s used to an Adam that makes his desires known. Adam has always been a go-getter, never one to let other people stand in his way. And he’s certainly never been shy about telling Ronan what he thinks. One of the only reasons their friendship even survived in the beginning is because Adam was never afraid to call Ronan out and make him feel like an idiot.

(Okay, not that last bit. Adam is smarter than anyone around him at any given time, but he never acts better than anyone because of it.)

But back to the matter at hand.

He’s driving back to Monmouth, for once obeying the traffic laws even if he doesn’t realize it because he needs the extra time to _think_. He doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong, hasn’t been too pushy or anything at all today. He’s actually tried to be on his best behavior today because it’s the first day in a long while that Adam’s had a whole day off and he didn’t want to stress him out.

Honestly, he and Adam couldn’t have picked a worse time to start going out. Ronan’s a mess, Gansey’s still a mess, Noah’s gone, Matthew is only around on Sundays, and Adam’s working extra hard in school for college applications. But it wouldn’t be real life if the timing wasn’t absolutely shitty, and being with Adam is perfect anyway. They both help each other through everything, and that means more to Ronan than he could ever attempt to show, so he has to settle with hoping that Adam understands when he looks in Ronan’s eyes.

Since it was the first day in a long time Adam’s had off, Ronan took him on a date. Technically their first, which is kind of strange since they’ve been together for a few months, but Ronan felt… good, today. Today was the first really good day he’s had since his mom was torn to pieces by a demon. So he took Adam to the movies in a bigger town a couple hours away.

“Ronan, I don’t have any money,” Adam protested lowly as Ronan dragged him up to the booth. “I-”

“Shut up, man, I’m paying.” Ronan scanned the movie titles above them. One arm was slung snugly around Adam’s scrawny neck, and it looked annoying enough that they could pass as good friends in public. Adam’s chest expanded, taking a breath in order to object, and Ronan cut him off curtly. “It’s a date, so you have to let me pay.”

Adam stopped. “Wait, what?” He looked up at Ronan, who was still squinting at the myriad of movies and ignoring him. “This is a date? Since when?”

“What do you mean, ‘since when’, I held your fucking car door open for you.”

“Is that what you think happened?” Adam asked dryly. “Because how it actually went was you playing your shitty music full blast until I came downstairs, and then you actually tripped me so I’d get in faster.”

“Same difference. What movie do you wanna see?”

“You can’t sneak-attack me into going on a date, Ronan.”

He sighed loudly, so that Adam would know how much of a hassle he is, and brought his other hand up. He looked down at Adam and cradled his jaw, and leaned in to press a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth. So much for stealth. But it was worth it to see Adam’s smile spread slowly over his face before he ducked his head in embarrassment.

“Is it a date now?” Ronan asked.

“I suppose,” Adam replied, muffled by the fabric of Ronan’s jacket.

After the movie they drove around for a bit, then stopped at an Olive Garden a few towns over. Adam smirked at him and leaned in to whisper, “The height of romance,” in Ronan’s ear as the hostess led them to their booth.

Ronan’s blood burned the whole day, sitting in a dark theater holding Adam’s hand, listening to Adam talk about whatever came into his mind on the drive, playing footsie with him under the table as they ate.

It burned all the way up until they were back at St. Agnes, in Adam’s bed, and Ronan’s hands were inching lower and lower down Adam’s waist (which was more of a curve then what Ronan usually fantasized about, but hey, it’s _Adam_ , so he was definitely down with it), when Adam _pulled away_.

“I think,” Adam panted. “I think we should probably call it a night right here.”

Ronan looked down at him where he lay underneath. “What?!”

Adam was flushed all the way down to where his collar started, lips red and wet. The beginnings of a small hickey rested at the bottom of his throat, low enough for his button-up to cover tomorrow at school. His hands, which had previously rested on Ronan’s scalp and the back of Ronan’s neck, now _pushed_ slightly at his shoulders. “Yeah, it’s- I have to-”

“You don’t _have_ anything to do. It’s eight-thirty, Adam, c’mon.” He sat up, though, not wanting to pressure Adam into anything regardless of how frustrated he felt. He knelt between Adam’s legs, which only moments before had been cautiously hitched around Ronan’s hips. It was the most comfortable thing Ronan ever felt.

“I know, it’s just- hey.” Ronan had looked away, and now Adam sat up and rested a hand in the dip where Ronan’s shoulder and neck met. Ronan looked back at him. “I’m just tired, okay? This isn’t- I’m not kicking you out because I don’t like where we were going or anything, I really do just wanna sleep, alright?”

Ronan hummed, still not quite appeased, and swayed forward a little, teasingly. Adam brought him the rest of the way in, and kissed him, soft and open and wet but without the urgent direction it had before. Ronan broke off, and thunked his forehead lightly against Adam’s.

“Was today okay?” Ronan whispered.

“Today was very okay,” Adam whispered back, and smiled. “It was the best date I’ve had in a while.”

Ronan scoffed. “A _while_? Not _ever_?”

Adam made a high-pitched _uhhhh_ noise like he had to think about it and Ronan drew his head away with an unhappy noise similar to one that Chainsaw made when offended. Adam laughed and reeled him back in for a kiss, and then another, and then Ronan set his hands low on Adam’s hips and the other boy suddenly pulled back and said, “Seriously, I’m beat.”

That was the moment Ronan caught on, and Adam knew it too, because he smiled the same smile he used to smooth things over with authority figures, and asked, “Are you staying here tonight?”

Ronan had a few choices at this point: he could, A) ignore these strange happenings and just lay down next to Adam and watch him sleep all night, B) throw a fit like he really wanted to right now and demand to know why Ronan was so repulsive that Adam suddenly didn’t want to even be _touched_ by him, or C) retreat and come up with a new battle plan.

“Nah, I’m not really tired,” Ronan found himself answering. “I think I’ll head back to Monmouth and poke at Gansey for a little bit.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Poke at him, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up.” He slapped his hand onto Adam’s head and gently shoved him back onto the mattress. “Go the hell to sleep, loser.”

“Hey Ronan,” Adam called when he was halfway out the door. Ronan turned to look at him. “I really did have fun today. It was nice. Thank you.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “You’re not supposed to thank me, moron, we’re dating. I’m supposed to take you out on dates and shit, we’re boyfriends.” He prayed that the dim lighting covered the blush on his cheeks. Damn his pale skin.

Adam just smiled, big and goofy and open, and Ronan’s chest was full of helium. “G’night.”

“Get some sleep,” Ronan responded, and flashed him the ILY sign before closing the door behind him and stomping down the stairs to the BMW.

And now he’s sitting in his car in the factory parking lot, tugging at his bracelets and wondering why Adam doesn’t want Ronan to touch him.

If he thought Adam just doesn’t want to jump into the whole- _sex_ thing, that would be fine, but he knows that’s not it, because Adam’s blown him a couple times now. And that was fantastic, of course, but the first time Ronan had almost instantly fallen asleep, and the second time Adam had insisted that he wasn’t in the mood, and _fucking shit, how long has this been going on?_

It’s not the lack of sex that irritates him. If Adam wasn’t ready or never wanted to, that’d be fine. (That’d still be perfect, because while Ronan finds Adam very attractive, he wouldn’t trade their long drives or kisses or hand-holding for just about anything.) But Adam has never shown an indication of _not_ being ready, so Ronan doesn’t _understand_ -

Just when he’s about to hit Tantrum Level of his frustration, the passenger door opens and all five-feet-nothing of Blue Sargent flops into the seat. “Hey, Ronan, can you take me home please,” she says more than asks, already closing the door and putting on her seatbelt without a second look at him.

“What the- get the fuck out of my car, Sargent,” he snaps. “I’m not taking you anywhere.”

She looks at him archly. “Henry is still here.”

Ronan looks back at her for a moment and then swears profusely, slamming the gearshift into reverse and roaring out of the parking lot.

“Driving like that, you might wanna put on your seatbelt,” Blue says pointedly.

He turns the stereo up with a savage twist of his wrist.

She bears it for a moment and then turns it down low enough that he can hear her say, “So, what’s got your briefs in a bunch today?”

“I wear boxers,” he growls, deflecting.

“Actually, you wear boxer- _briefs_ , and I only know this because for some reason you like to parade around in as little clothing as possible.”

“Wasn’t aware you’re such an expert concerning men’s underwear,” he says snidely.

“Anyway, you’re deflecting. What’s wrong with you?” She pauses, and then asks more hesitantly, “Are you and Adam-”

He turns the music back up as loudly as it can go and then drives as quickly as he can to Fox Way, blowing through several stop signs on the way. When he pulls up, he keeps the BMW in first gear instead of parking.

She ignores his obvious body language and turns the music off. “Is your temper tantrum about-” she cuts herself off. “I mean, you- do you know…”

“Spit it out, Blue,” he demands, glaring at her.

She squints at him. “Do you know about Adam?”

He returns the expression. “I know a lot of things about Adam.”

“Yeah, but. Do you _know_ about Adam?”

Realization dawns in him. “Are you asking whether I know if he’s trans?”

Blue lets out a relieved breath. “Thank god, I really didn’t wanna out him if you didn’t know-”

“How the hell do _you_ even know?” Ronan asks, shocked. He’s no novice at secrets, and keeping one that isn’t his wasn’t a hardship, but he’d been under the impression that Adam hadn’t told anyone but him.

Blue tilts her head at him, as if he’s just asked for the answer to a spectacularly simple question. “We’re in the same grade. We’ve been going to the same school since middle school.”

 _Well, shit._ Ronan had never thought about it like that. With a town the size of Henrietta, there is no doubt that most of the public school kids were at least aware of each other. Ronan had known practically everyone at Aglionby, and he had tried his hardest not to. Add in being trans in such a small, southern town…

Ronan had gotten enough shit from everyone just for cutting his hair off and getting a tattoo. He couldn’t imagine what Adam must have gone through.

“Does Adam know?” he asks her.

She shakes her head, and a hair from her bangs comes unpinned. “I don’t think so. He didn’t recognize me that first night at Nino’s, and I don’t think he knew many kids in school. I never wanted to bring it up, cuz that’s kinda…” She trails off, making a pinched, uncomfortable face, and Ronan nods in agreement.

“Yeah. I think he’ll tell everyone eventually, though. So there’s no use feeling bad about it.”

She smiles at him a little, a small dimple shadowed in the blue glow of the dash, and then turns serious again. “So if it’s not about that-”

Ronan groans, obnoxious and long, and tilts his head back to rub his scalp back and forth on the headrest. He closes his eyes. “If I tell you, you can’t- laugh, or what the fuck ever.”

“I won’t,” she says seriously.

“And I’m only doing this because you’re the only one I can talk to, and you might actually be able to help.”

“Okay.”

He sighs, and then sits up and looks at her. “Adam won’t let me reciprocate.” He doesn’t elaborate further, just lets his blush speak for him.

Her eyes widen, and her mouth makes a little ‘o’. “’Reciprocate’ as in…?”

He sets his jaw. This isn’t embarrassing. He grew up on a _farm_ for Pete’s sake, sex is one of the most natural things ever and _totally not embarrassing_. “He’s blown me before, so I know he’s fine with- _all this_ , but anytime I try to do anything for him, he says he’s tired, or that he’s not in the mood when it’s pretty fucking obvious that’s not true-”

“Ronan.”

“And I just- Is it me? Is there something wrong with me, like, he doesn’t want-”

“Oh my god, Ronan, stop,” Blue orders, smacking him on the shoulder. He halts his rambling and looks at her, surprised at himself and blushing. He hadn’t even known he was that upset over everything.

“It’s not fair to him, Blue,” he tells her somberly. “It’s not fair for anything like that to be one-sided.”

“I know.” She rubs his arm in a way that she probably means to be comforting. Ronan realizes all over again how tiny her hands are. “Honestly, this is something you two need to talk about. You’ll never really know until you talk to him. That being said,” she hurried, noting the rising mutiny on his face, “the problem, I think, is that. Well. You’re gay, Ronan.”

“That’s literally the opposite of the problem here, doofus,” he snaps.

“Ronan. Adam doesn’t have a penis.”

“I _know_ ,” he says, and then stops. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” She looks at him for a moment longer and then pats his arm once more and opens the door. “Thanks for the ride. Let me know how things go, okay?”

He nods absentmindedly and watches as she shuts the passenger-side door and makes her way to the house. When the door shuts behind her, he slams on the gas and heads out of town.

///

Logically, Ronan _knows_ Adam’s body is different than what he expects from a cis guy. Even disregarding his nether regions, Adam’s soft in places that aren’t soft on cis boys, and even though he’s so worryingly skinny, his waist and hips are curvier as well.

Ronan doesn’t mind, though, because it’s _Adam_. He’d known before he decided to do something about his feelings nearly six months ago. It hadn’t even occurred to Ronan back then that eventually sex may come into the equation, mostly because the wildest his imagination ever got only involved kissing every one of Adam’s knuckles.

He holes up at the Barns, and thinks about everything extensively. That’s something he’s learned from being with Adam, who thinks about nearly everything from at least three different viewpoints before taking any action. Adam says he’s like that from living with his father, but Ronan thinks it’s probably a combination of that and his naturally analytical brain.

But, anyway, he thinks. And considers. And thinks some more. And he concludes: it’s not that big of a roadblock. Admittedly, he doesn’t really know what to do with vaginas, but he doesn’t really know what to do with penises that aren’t his, and he has the entire internet and a hidden penchant for research at his disposal. Even if they don’t do much for him personally, he’s not repulsed at the idea of genitals that aren’t generally considered ‘male’.

Ronan is also aware that Adam simply may not want him to touch him there at all, that it may trigger his dysphoria. But there’s also Declan, who has more sex than all the cis guys Ronan knows put together and feels just peachy about it, apparently. It’s something he’ll only have the answer to when he asks Adam, and from there they can decide where this will go in the future.

He’s planning for a future discussion with his boyfriend about their sex life. How fucking domestic.

///

In the end, Adam comes to him.

Ronan is perched on the porch railing, watching the weak sunlight play through the mist swirling low to the ground. It’s morning, but with the oppressive gray clouds overhead, time is distorted. The vibrant greens of the Barns’ fields are washed out, but the red rust on the bumper of Adam’s shitty little car seems brighter somehow.

Adam gets out of the car, and when Ronan doesn’t get up, moves to stand in front of him. The top of his head only comes up to Ronan’s chest. He tilts his head to look up at him and waits.

He meets Adam’s gaze for a few seconds and then looks away. It’s frustrating. He _knows_ what he wants to say, and mostly how to say it, but. He’s not good with words, and it’s very easy to mess up with something like this. He’d really fucked up when he lost it about Adam’s binding (if you could even call it that; Jesus Christ, everyone knows not to bind with Ace fucking bandages), and he doesn’t want this to turn into a fight.

“What are you thinking?” Adam asks. Ronan’s been asked that several times throughout his life: yelled at him by a frustrated Declan, sighed at him from between Gansey’s disappointed lips, whispered excitedly by a Noah looking for mischief; but Adam’s the only one that ever actually wanted to know.

Inhale through nose, exhale through mouth. _This is fine. Just don’t get mad._ “We don’t have to have sex.” Judging by the look on Adam’s face, he hadn’t been expecting this at all, but Ronan forges on. “If you don’t want to, we won’t, and that’s fine. But if you do. Want to. I’m down for that.”

Adam doesn’t have a response, just stares at Ronan with wide eyes. Finally, he chokes out, “You want to have sex with me?”

 _Way to go, Lynch, you broke him._ “Yes,” Ronan answers, feeling heat rise to his face. “But that’s not the point. I’m saying that if you want to, we can. If you don’t want to, we won’t.”

Adam moves back. It’s less than a half-step, and could be so that he can see Ronan’s face better, but Ronan notices it all the same. “Why are you bringing this up?” His voice is steady now in the way it gets when his temper is beginning to flare, and his ears are turning red.

Looming over him probably isn’t a good idea at this point, so Ronan jumps down in front of him. “You always pull back when I start touching you. I didn’t notice until a few days ago, and I didn’t know why, so I thought about it-”

“You avoided me for three days to think about why I wouldn’t let you fuck me?” Adam spits.

Ronan chokes on an inhale. His face is on fire. “Fucking- _no_ ,” he manages, strangled. “God, no, shit on a stick, Parrish.”

“Maybe,” Adam said hotly, ignoring Ronan’s small breakdown, “I always stopped it because I’m not _comfortable with that_.”

“Yeah, I _realized_ that-”

“You realized it when you didn’t even _talk_ to me about this and _ignored me_ -”

“I had to think!” Ronan yells. _So much for not losing your temper._ “I didn’t know why you didn’t want to-”

“BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE A DICK, RONAN,” Adam roars. His face is splotched with red, his hands curled into fists. “I don’t have a dick, and what I do have is something you’re definitely not interested in! So sue me for trying to save you a little fucking discomfort!”

Ronan stops short, keeping whatever he’d been about to say behind his teeth. Adam’s eyes are shiny, for all he’s glaring like his anger makes him untouchable. Ronan is reminded about the days Adam can’t stand to look at his reflection. He forgets sometimes, after growing up with a brother who is nothing but confident in his gender, that Adam can be affected in this way by the simple reminder that he’s physically different from other boys.

“Adam-” he steps forward, but Adam brings his hands up and shoves him in the chest hard before spinning and walking a few paces away. He stands with his back to Ronan, who can see his boyfriend’s shoulders shake even as he tries to master himself.

Ronan scrubs a hand over his bristly head, and gives Adam a few moments of privacy before going over to him, stopping a few steps away. “You’re what I’m interested in,” he tells him, and then scoffs at himself. “That sounds fucking cheesy, I _know_ , but it’s the truth. I’m gay because I’m a boy who likes boys. I like a certain boy who is genius and angry and beautiful. For some reason he likes me enough to let me take him on dates and call him my boyfriend.”

Adam’s shoulders are still, but tight. His head is turned slightly to the right to better hear what Ronan says. “You’re-” Ronan pauses so he can more accurately turn the way he feels into words. “I’m not gay because I just go crazy for dicks. They’re cool, I guess, but it’s not-” Did he really just say _dicks are cool_? He hates talking. “I like the way you look when you fix cars. I like how you take your shirt off. I like how your hands are big and callused.” He takes a deep breath, knowing his next words could very well be the wrong ones. “I like how your waist is curvy, and how your thighs and stomach are soft. I like your soft jawline.” He steps forward until he can reach out and run his fingers through the baby hairs at the nape of Adam’s neck. “I like everything about you because you’re _you_. I love you, and your entire body, and I want to make you feel good. If you want me to.”

His mouth, blessedly, stops vomiting words, and they stand there in silence while the mist dances around them. He doesn’t know what Adam’s thinking, and he’s terrified that he may have fucked everything up, but he can only hope Adam understands him. No one ever hears him the way Adam does, knows to pay attention to the spaces between his words the way he does.

After a long, nerve-wracking silence, Adam says, “You’ve never told me you loved me before.”

“I have,” Ronan corrects. “I just never said it out loud.”

He breathes in sharply, an almost sob that doesn’t quite make it to completion, and scrubs his hands down his face roughly. He finally turns and Ronan drops his arm. They stare at each other for a moment before Adam tells him, “You don’t have to push yourself into something you’re uncomfortable with just because you think it’ll make me happy.”

Ronan scoffs and gestures to the land around them. “I grew up on a fucking _farm_. I’ve seen way grosser shit than whatever you may be packing, Parrish.” Adam’s face screws up into the annoyed expression he makes whenever Ronan says something obnoxious, and he cheers on the inside. “But really. If you want me to, I want to make you feel good. But if you don’t want me to-”

“I do,” Adam blurts out, blushing.

“You do?” Ronan grins widely.

Adam rolls his eyes. “I- yeah. I do. But.” Ronan’s grin lessens as Adam turns visibly uncomfortable. “I don’t like. I mean.” He looks away, and then just over Ronan’s shoulder. “I don’t want to do anything... penetrative. So traditional sex is not gonna happen.”

Ronan shrugs. “Alright.” Adam’s eyes snap to his. “Honestly I’m not comfortable with that either. But you said you wanted me to make you feel good, so how…?”

He opens and closes his mouth a couple times before turning even redder and shifting his weight to the other foot. “I was, um, thinking that you could, uh, use your mouth?”

Ronan’s lips tingle, somehow, and he becomes very aware of each and every one of his teeth. “I can do that.”

Adam nods once, sharply. “Okay. Cool.”

He stands there, eyes averted, looking the very picture of _uncomfortable_ , so Ronan steps up to him and rests his wrist on Adam’s shoulder so he can play with his hair. “If you’re not comfortable, we won’t,” he tells him. “I only brought this up because it’s not fair to you if you go down on me and I can’t do anything in return. I’d still be just as happy if we do nothing but hold hands and leave room for Jesus.”

“That’s not how this works, you moron,” Adam chides, balling his hands in the fabric of Ronan’s T-shirt. “I didn’t do that because I wanted anything in return. I did it because I wanted to. And you’re really pretty when you come.” Adam smiles crookedly at the noise that escapes from Ronan. “And I am comfortable. It’s just.” He wrinkles his nose. “Talking about it is weird, isn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Ronan agrees, still winded from Adam’s offhand comment.

“Maybe we should just…” He motions towards the house behind them, and Ronan leans down and scoops him up into a fireman’s carry.

“Best idea you’ve had all day, Parrish,” he declares, cackling at the surprised noise Adam makes, which makes Adam break out into breathless giggles, and carries him sideways into the house.

///

It’s awkward at first, since Adam’s always been too dysphoric to touch himself, and Ronan’s never done this before, but eventually they figure out exactly what Adam likes, and Ronan’s research definitely pays off.

Adam cries after the first time, which Ronan doesn’t hold against him because of the way Adam’s orgasm rips through him like a rainstorm. The second time is calmer, but the third is just as violent as the first, though it’s better because Adam smiles down at Ronan with a blissed out look on his face. He falls asleep after putting his hand down Ronan’s pants and finishing him with not more than two strokes, embarrassingly enough.

Ronan’s jaw kind of aches, and vaginas are weirder than he’d anticipated, but Adam is practically a melted puddle in his bed, more relaxed than Ronan thinks he’s ever seen him. He lays back next to him and watches the light from the dream orbs play across his face. He scoots closer, hooks an arm and leg around his boyfriend, and follows him into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> They talk everything out using actual words after their nap.
> 
> Disclaimer: Adam doesn't represent all trans boys! What Adam wants/is comfortable with is not representative of any irl trans guy, so this fic shouldn't be taken out of context.
> 
> This is all consensual. Ronan isn't turned on by Adam's privates, but he has no problem dealing with them. Adam never made him feel obligated, and while he was never able to touch himself bc of dysphoria, he doesn't experience any when Ronan touches him.
> 
> Follow me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/1980salienboi) and [tumblr](http://1980salienboi.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This also isn't part of The Discourse. You know which one. Any question/concerns? Find me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/1980sghostboy) and [tumblr](http://www.1980sghostboy.tumblr.com). Thank you for reading!


End file.
